Down the Rabbit Hole
by Amaranth01
Summary: Sylar finds himself in a strange new world.
1. Chapter 1

Sylar awakened to find the sun beating down mercilessly upon his bruised and aching head. He slowly sat up and took a look around him. Waves gently undulated onto an unfamiliar shore and he squinted into the distance, trying to make out landmarks or at least some sort of coastline. He moved once more to stand and sudden pain hit him and he fell gasping into soft sand. He grimaced. He was used to pain, in fact, it was often the impetus he used to go on. But this was different, this was maddening, and it was unending. He gasped once more and then felt the pain slowly ebbing and he relaxed. His head began to clear and he smirked.

He could always overcome pain, with or without his powers. He stood and looked down at his soiled clothing and frowned. He'd have to find a store, or perhaps a man who was about his size and height and change clothes. He didn't want people to ask questions. Not that he cared what anyone thought—but questions were something he could not afford at this juncture. He noticed a line of blood pooling around his midsection and raised his shirt. A long gash ran from around his navel to his right side. The wound was superficial, but it still elicited a trill of alarm.

Sylar watched for a moment, willing the wound to heal, to close. But it did nothing except continue to ooze blood, though it appeared it was coagulating. Sylar's pulse began to race. No, this was impossible. His powers—they couldn't—they couldn't be--

He tried to make electricity crackle against his skin, but felt nothing except an insane itch dance across his fingertips. When he dropped his hands, the itching disappeared. He tried to levitate, and only succeeded in making his headache return. It was official. He had somehow lost his powers. He forced himself to fight a rising tide of panic. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd been without powers. He had always found a way of getting them back. It was usually just a matter of time, he reassured himself.

He began to survey his surroundings once more. It was apparent that he was on a beach, and he quickly took in the dancing palm trees and tropical fauna swaying daintily in the breeze. "Hmph," he murmured. It was all very strange. Especially considering that the last thing he remembered was running down an icy street trying to dodge the government bounty hunters. He'd made his way to the Midwest, and it had been mid-December. He had just gotten the ability to transmute objects—oh, he sighed, a lovely little ability—and he'd been surrounded by men decked out in black and sporting heavy artillery.

He hadn't been too alarmed, considering most of the goons were incredibly stupid and easily distracted. But they had newer, better weapons, weapons that actually harmed him and deflected his powers inward. Each time he'd thrown someone, he'd gotten thrown, and each time he cut someone he'd gotten cut. Being the recipient of your own punches and injuries had not been the highlight of his day. So he'd done the one thing that was necessary and absolutely counter to his nature—he ran.

He'd run all the way to an icy lake and had fallen in, and as he felt the water rushing into his lungs, he had begun to feel a sense of peace, of purpose and invincibility, because he would never--could never die. Then, he'd awakened—here.

But where was here? He mused. Had he been captured and this was some elaborate illusion? He shook his head and smirked. He had a strange sense of déjà vu. If it was some sort of illusion it wouldn't be the first time he been pulled into someone's sick little fantasy world. He snorted. In fact, because of the woman he'd long ago disposed of (he couldn't quite remember her name or her face), he had a rarely used and quite useless ability to only slightly alter people's perception of reality. He could make a ten dollar bill look like a twenty, but only for a few minutes. He could make a man think he looked like a woman—but only for the space of few heartbeats. For some reason the ability hadn't taken root in him, and he hadn't been able to figure out why.

As he began walking down the beach, he noticed incredible details about plants, the surf and even the scuttle of little crabs that were here and there about the beach. No, he thought, even the illusionist he'd met hadn't been this detailed. He could still feel the sun beating down on his head, could still feel pain. Physical discomfort had been conspicuously missing in the illusion she had woven. No, this--this may just be real.

He continued sloshing through the water and sand and then felt a strange sense of compulsion, of something pulling him inland. He didn't like it. He didn't like feeling controlled or tied down by anything other than his own needs and desires. But his all-consuming curiosity won out. The compulsion was like a problem to be analyzed, and he couldn't resist its lure. He traipsed across verdant brush and thickets.

He was surprised every few moments by the scurry of a plethora of animals, the brunt of which he had never laid eyes on, either in life or in a book. A butterfly flew by his face and he steadfastly waved it away before realizing it really wasn't a butterfly. It was a person. A very small person—with iridescent wings.

Stunned, he stopped in his tracks. Little people with wings did not exist. He must be feeling the effects of a drug or chemical. Perhaps this was all a dream and he still in a snow covered alley back in Michigan. He fought to gain control of his warring emotions. If this was a dream, he reasoned, he would see it through and he'd wake up safe and sound. Cold, perhaps, but none the worse for wear.

Yes, that's it. He was dreaming. He'd probably gotten knocked out and was sitting in a darkened alleyway, or if he'd been captured he was in a cell. He felt his anger rise. That would explain why he had no powers. They'd given him some concoction that would probably have him out for days. He chuckled with sinister glee. Let them think they were safe. When he came around, they'd be sorry they fucked with him. He'd make sure of it.

He pressed on and soon heard the roar of a waterfall. Its beauty shocked him, and he sighed dazedly as he took in the colorful blooms of oversized flowers, the sweet smell that hung in the air and the lush run of vines and grasses surrounding the inlet below the waterfalls' reach. The rocks around the waterfall shined and glistened like diamonds and Sylar quickly stripped off his clothes. This was good—very good, he thought. He could scrub his clothes against the rock and clean them—and himself too. And besides, he continued, he deserved to relax a bit. He hadn't felt this clearheaded in a while.

He waded into the pool and swam toward the torrent of water. The water was pleasantly warm and felt good against his tired muscles. He scrubbed he clothes and then laid them aside and relaxed beneath the water. He hadn't felt this good in a long time. He tried to remember feeling so relaxed. Hmm… he thought. He hadn't felt this relaxed since he and Elle last made love—he abruptly stopped his chain of thought. No, he would not wax sentimental about the bitch that had lied to him. She'd lied to him and gotten what she'd deserved. The emotions had probably been a lie too. All designed to trip him up and keep him from his goal. He became angry with himself for lowering his guard. For feeling relaxed even for a moment. Anger was good. It kept him from thinking too much, from overanalyzing a situation—from making a mistake. It had been a mistake to fall for Elle, he thought, a mistake he wouldn't make again.

He was making his way from the warm pool when he felt something brush his thigh. He tensed and became very still. He waited for a few minutes before resuming movement. Then he felt the sensation again, except it was along his legs and back. Look, he told himself, if this is a dream nothing can harm you. An exquisitely scaled tail broke the surface of the water. It gleamed as the sun hit it, illuminating the gold design interlaced in the fins before it went back under the surface and Sylar tried to stymie a rush of panic. Dream or no, whatever was in the water was beginning to worry him.

He hated all things aquatic. They seemed to have no purpose except to eat, shit and swim endlessly across the bottom of the lakes and seas with their beady little eyes showcasing nothing but blind cruelty and need. (Deep down, he could admit that he was really creeped out by fish and ocean creatures. So much so, he'd never have a seafood dinner or stand to be near an aquarium.)

He watched as a blonde head rose out of the water. Lovely cerulean eyes stared back at him from an even lovelier face. Another head—brunette this time, broke the surface. Once again a curious pair of female eyes stared back at him, only this time they were dark brown and the lovely face was dark brown as well. Both women had full, beautiful luscious lips and noses so perfect and pert, Hollywood actresses would have been lining up and asking them for referrals.

"What do think that is, Ailil?" the brown skinned woman asked.

"I don't know. I think it's a man," the other woman remarked.

"A man?," the brown one snorted, "There's no such thing as a man. They're a legend."

"Not true, Aydra. I saw one with my own two eyes two hundred years ago. He even showed me his special place. And we did the special dance beneath the moonlight," she sighed contentedly. "It was wonderful! Like being at festival and eating tabby apple stew all wrapped in one!"

Aydra wrinkled her nose in disgust, "You mean, you _mated_ with it? At least that's what it sounds like to me."

Ailil rolled her eyes. "Of course you can't say I mated with it. I mean, he didn't even offer me half his kingdom. It was more like—like a really nice kiss."

Great, Sylar thought to himself, I dreamed up the dumb slut of the merworld and her sidekick. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Look, look," Ailil exclaimed excitedly, "I think it wants to talk. Some of them can talk you know," she added smugly.

"Who the hell—_What_ the hell are you two And where the fuck am I?" Sylar said between clenched teeth.

"Why, it isn't very nice," Aydra replied.

"I concur," Ailil nodded and brought up a golden fin from the water. She flexed the thin lining between the bony ribbing and sighed. "He's bloody boring besides."

"Yes," Aydra replied and a silver fin broke the surface. She flexed hers as well before letting it fall back beneath the surface.

"Shall we menace the sharks?" Ailil asked, "They're always good for a laugh."

Aydra thought a moment before shaking her head. "No. We did that yesterday. Though I admit, it was fun watching the little buggers try and outsmart us."

Ailil came closer to Sylar and jumped back and stiffened. "Hmmm…," she murmured. "Maybe we can play with his special parts. That's always fun."

Aydra snorted. "Definitely not. If I mate with anyone, even a _man_, he'll be sure to give me more than half his kingdom."

Ailil giggled, the sound tinkling like ice cubes floating in a cold beverage. "You're such a shelldigger Aydra. I don't think there is a merman alive that could please your thirst for treasure."

Aydra shrugged delicately. "I don't mate for pleasure. There's no purpose."

Sylar assessed Aydra coolly. She had just become a tad bit more attractive in his eyes. Purpose. Ah, he thought, he lived for it. She definitely earned a point or two of respect.

"Let's take him to Mirell. She'll know what to do with him. And if she's pleased, she'll throw a grand party, and that's sure to be a lot of fun. Though, not so much if the orcs are invited."

Ailil rolled her eyes. "The last time they got drunk, became terribly loud and boisterous, fought everyone and ate all the cake. I was not amused."

"Neither was I. But perhaps this time they won't come. Especially having to cross Winter's land. Bring him. She may very well be pleased. Shall we go?"

"Let's," Ailil agreed. Sylar struggled as they took hold of his arms. It was like being gripped by metal vises and Sylar soon exhausted himself. He gave a whimper of defeat before being pulled under the water.

He renewed his fight as the current sucked him down and the mermaids' grip only tightened as he thrashed. They raced underwater with unbelievable speed and soon they broke the surface. Sylar sputtered and spit out water. He took in great gulps of air and glared at the women holding him captive. If this was a dream, then he had some deep-seated issues he'd have to deal with. He made a mental note to go see a really good shrink once things settled down. Well, he thought, unless the shrink had abilities. Then he'd resolved his issues and _then_ he'd kill the shrink. Wait….he thought….that can't be healthy. Maybe I do have issues…..


	2. Chapter 2

"Mirell," Ailil singsonged, "We're baaaack,"

"And we have a surprise!" Aydra added, "It's a man!"

He followed the mermaids' gaze to a tree and watched as a flutter of wings enveloped a giant oak. Thousands of tiny, colorful and brightly lit gossamer wings sailed along the air currents before moving aside. The bark along the tree moved, shimmered and took the shape of a woman. A gorgeous woman. Of course, Sylar thought, all the women here would have to be beautiful. I guess that's what happens when you go through a dry spell and then your only outlet is the occasional prostitute. You dream about women that look like they belong in a Victoria's Secret ad.

She wore a gown that seemed to be made of sunlight. It swayed and moved of its own accord, giving her hourglass figure an air of sensuality. Her pale skin glowed like moonlight and glittered with some sort of light, shimmery powder. Her ears came to sharp points on both sides of her head and were adorned with tiny, delicate shells.

Sylar found his gaze wondering to her full, perky breasts and tiny waist before he angrily shook his head of such thoughts. Desire was a weakness. A weakness he could never afford. The woman didn't so much as walk over to the edge of the pond so much as she glided. She came to a graceful stop and sighed.

"It _is_ a man," she clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, the parties we will have! Tell everyone. We will dress him in our finest and he will entertain us with stories of the mainland."

Sylar grinned evilly, "Lady, I'm not going to do anything that doesn't involve me getting off this damn island."

Her smile dimmed a bit before becoming brighter and if he didn't imagine it, cruel. "Of course you'll do as I say, you silly man! You wouldn't want to end up in a bad way. Now would you?," she batted her eyelashes prettily even as her pleasant tone belied a steely edge.

"Is that a threat?" Sylar felt his head begin to pound with anger. Dreams didn't talk back to you. They didn't force you to do things you didn't want to. And dreams certainly weren't psycho porn star wannabes that gave orders to a man who had multiple abilities. It all didn't make sense.

"Oh no," she replied as if she were aghast at even the thought, "I don't make threats. I simply do what must be done. That is what queens do. Threats are so messy and time consuming. No. I've never been one to bother with those."

Aydra pulled Sylar close and whispered fervently into his ear, "I know you are a man, but you shouldn't be crazed to boot! You don't deny the Queen of Meadows. Don't be fooled by the visage. She can be a cruel mistress."

Aydra loosened her hold on Sylar and he pulled his arm out of her grip. "I don't take orders from anyone."

"I have more important things to do than to entertain you. I'm outta here," Sylar said and Mirell smiled indulgently, before pushing her dark hair behind her ears and kneeling.

"Such a difficult little human. So difficult indeed," she tsked and swept a sensuous hand across Sylar's bare chest. "Your bodies are so delicate, and the energies you create are so vibrant. They're complex like lullabies. But so, very, very exquisite."

She began waving her hands in front of Sylars face, her fingers moving as if they were dancing across piano keys. Then she seemed to be pulling onto thin air, as if she were pulling something from him. He tensed at first, then as moments went by and he felt nothing, he rolled his eyes. "I assume there's a point to this little exercise?" he commented.

She smiled sweetly as her fingers gracefully flew through the air. Then he saw it, a black, dark smoky tendril that began to wind itself around her fingers and slide down her pale arms. "Oh," she cooed, "Your energy is dark, so black, so hungry…,"

The ribbon of blackness began to slide between her luscious lips and then she suckled for a moment, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Mmmmm……So delicious."

Then she cruelly bit off a chunk and Sylar bucked. His insides felt as if they were on fire. The pain shot through him in degrees and in moments he was nothing but pain. And yet, she kept eating, kept devouring. She laughed and he fell back into the water. Water rushed into his lungs and unlike before he felt no rush of invincibility, just the cold awareness of death. The pain he was feeling was so incredible, he almost wished for it all to end, to feel nothing. He was in so much pain he was hardly aware that he was no longer in the water, but lying in the soft meadow.

All he knew was that each heartbeat was another moment of fiery, achy, hurting pain. He screamed as the pain intensified even more and he couldn't believe he was still alive, still able to feel pain at this magnitude. He could hear the queen's laughter and her soft moans of pleasure as she consumed his life force. She leaned over him and grasped his head, willing more of himself into her. Sylar could feel his eyes burning, and blood running from his eyes and ears. He continued screaming. He screamed until his throat was raw and dry. But she took even that away from him. He tried to scream and found that his mouth would not open and he was unable to produce sound.

"Such a noisy little thing you are," she said and bit off another chunk of his force.

He suffered in silence. Time was of no consequence as each moment blended into the next.

"Enough!," Aydra screamed, " Please. If you kill him, what of our entertainment? What of the great party ahead? My queen, he is but a backwards human. They are by their very nature stubborn creatures that refuse to see reason. Please let him be. I will teach him to be obedient to our ways."

The queen smiled and licked her lips. "Oh Aydra. You are quite right. He can't help that he comes from such a backwards race. But he is your responsibility."

Sylar sat up slowly and grimaced. Mirell chucked him lightly beneath his chin and giggled. "You'd best be on good behavior, human. I've been known to lose my temper."

Mirell hopped gaily to her feet as pin-points of light floated about her. Sylar shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz from within it.

The lights intensified and Sylar could now see that the lights were more than just floating orbs. They were humans with wings. Small humans with wings. One brushed across his face and he swatted violently. It flew back to a safe distance and he could see a tiny fist being shaken in anger. Sylar sighed. Fairies. Of course there were fairies. He then remembered seeing one of them before. Yes, he had. He had thought nothing of it then. He had just assumed he'd been mistaken. Yeah, he had been mistaken alright. He rolled his eyes. He hated this place.

Mirell was walking quickly through the grasses, her dressing swishing this way and that and she turned, a smirk upon her face. "Darling Aydra. Dress him for tonight. I will have my fun with him yet."

Aydra nodded and the Mirell turned, her body shimmering at the edges, then disappearing in a burst of light.

"You have angered Mirell," Ailil shrilled. "She will feed us to the crekin and they will crack our bones upon the stones!"

"I have done no such thing. And the crekin are but a legend Ailil. A tale told to naughty children. Nothing more. Besides, she is not angry. After feeding from him, I think she is quite pleased. She was quite delighted, I believe."

"Well," Ailil replied, fear etched across her pretty face, "I hope you're right. She has quite the temper. One never knows what to expect from her."

Aydra snorted. "Oh, you're one to talk. She will never do harm to you. You're her daughter after all."

"Don't say that," Ailil whined, "I am the daughter of Mardigan, not that—that—that crazy meadowlands spirit!,"

"Oh Ailil stuff it! Your father couldn't keep his fins to himself if he tried. Mardigan claimed you because she could not bear a daughter and Mirell allowed it. And surprisingly, I think that crazy hoot loves you. It's me she'd feed to the shadows. Not you. So stop your whining, you ninny,"

Ailil's eyes filled with tears. "My father is an honorable king. He would never betray mother."

Aydra rolled her eyes. "Oh dear, here we go--,"

"During the war against demon kind he fought bravely against them, trident in hand," Ailil and Aydra said in unison.

Aydra interrupted Ailil's diatribe with a nasty laugh and said, "It's any wonder he had time to defend a whole territory; considering he was sleeping with half the defense, the entire council and half the legion of sorcery and even some of the Orgs."

"He wouldn't, he wouldn't do such—such terrible things," Ailil wailed, her beautiful blue eyes glistening with tears.

"Ailil," Aydra clucked and shook her head sadly, "Do not idolize your father, it will only lead to pain."

Ailil began crying, softly at first, then in great heaving sobs. "You're so mean. You're so mean! What have I ever done to you!"

Aydra reached out to touch Ailil "It's for your own good--,"

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone!" Ailil dipped beneath the water and with a splash of her golden fin, she was gone.

"You have terrible people skills," Sylar intoned as he stood, then noticed he was no longer naked, but dressed in his clothes once more. He approached the lake's edge.

For a moment Aydra's perfect composure was marred by sadness before she quickly subdued it. "I believe you are not an authority on these matters, human, seeing as you have no friends."

Sylar's face darkened. "How do you know I don't have any friends?"

"With your obvious charm and wit," she laughed, "Perhaps you do. Perhaps they are worried and are now, coming for you,"

Sylar turned away, his lips tightening into a thin line.

"Am I right? You have no friends, no tribe to mourn for you, to fight for you?"

Sylar remained silent and she chuckled. "It is as I thought. You have no one. You'd do well to be nice. I'm the only one that can help you here."

Sylar studied her a moment. "I don't need your help. I'm getting off this island."

"There is no way off this island. Unless mistress wishes it to be so."

"Mistress? Who is this mistress?,"

Aydra shook her head and stared into the distance unanswering.

Sylar crept closer, anger marring his features. "Tell me," he said between clenched teeth, "Who is this mistress you're talking about?"

"It is none of your concern human. I can see that you've suffered no ill effects from Mirell's ministrations. I will prepare you for tonight's festivities."

"You will tell me who this mistress is and you will take me to her," he said and lunged for her and as quickly as she was there, she was not.

Sylar looked about in confusion. The water remained undisturbed and there was nothing but waves of gentle grasses waving in the soft breeze.

"Human," he heard and he turned.

Aydra was standing behind him upon two perfectly and beautifully formed brown legs. Her long black hair flew errantly in the breeze and hid most of her nakedness.

"How did you--,"

Aydra sighed impatiently. "So many questions about things you should not be concerned. Know that I cannot be hurt easily human."

Sylar stared at her in shock, a creeping feeling of helplessness began to overtake him and he shoved it to the back of his mind.

"We will prepare for tonight. You will please Mirell greatly," Aydra grinned, "And I will be rewarded."


	3. Chapter 3

Sylar walked behind Aydra grudgingly, admitting even to himself that he had no choice but to follow. She walked as if she were hearing some internal rhythm and Sylar found himself entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips. He forced his eyes from her backside and focused his attention on the terrain around him. He had to memorize everything he saw, so when the time came, he could escape. Yet it seemed that each time he turned around to survey the land from whence they came it would change ever so slightly.

They stopped an hour later and she led him inside a cave. The walls were lit softly with glowing embers and the walls gave off a slightly ethereal glow.

"Do not think of escaping human,"

"I wasn't--," Sylar began and then stopped.

"I noticed you looking about you when we were walking. Don't be fooled by what you see. The land has a mind of its own. It changes on a whim, not drastically, but it does. It is easy for one such as yourself to get lost here."

"Well, how is it you don't get lost?" he inquired. She swept her hair from her face, revealing a pair of pert and bountiful breasts. Sylar forced his eyes from her chest and looked into her eyes.

"I don't know why. Perhaps it's intuitive. I know the land for what it is, not what I think it should be."

Sylar was more than a little puzzled by her cryptic answer. He was getting agitated with his experience. He should be wrapping his hands around her pretty little throat and forcing her to get him off the island. Instead, he found himself feeling like a horny teenager, distracted by a nice pair of boobs and a set of legs. _It's this place_, he reasoned. _It's this damn place with its fairies and it's mermaids and crazy meadowland spirits_, he railed inwardly. _It's too much chaos, too strange, too uncontrolled._

He followed her down a long tunnel and into a chamber. Stalactites hung far above them, their reaches shined as if they were laced with diamonds and the room was bathed in light, though Sylar could not see a light source.

They walked further inside and he could now see that the walls were coated in precious metals. She walked beneath a deep overhanging and sighed.

"Undress," she ordered.

Sylar stared at her for a moment, shocked beyond words. "What--,"

"Do not make me repeat myself human. Now, take off your garments or I will do it for you,"

Though he should be bristling with anger, the thought of her taking off his clothes sent a tendril of thrill shooting through him. He angrily yanked up his shirt and pulled it over his head. This wasn't like him. It wasn't like him at all. The cool, hard space in his head was beginning to fill up with things he didn't like contemplating, and he hated every moment of it.

He quickly divested himself of his pants, shoes and socks and stood unashamed before Aydra's eyes. She gave him a long once-over and then paused as her eyes traveled lower, then she finally humphed, but not before he saw a look of approval in her dark, brown eyes.

For some reason it pleased him to think she liked what she saw. He was very diligent about staying in top physical shape. After all, he couldn't always just rely on his powers.

She touched a knob in the wall and a rain shower came down from the overhanging rock. The water was warm, scented and a bit soapy.

Aydra began to soak herself in the water and cooed with contentment. He watched as the water began to slide down her hair and down her backside. Sylar grimaced and turned and stepped beneath the water.

"Human," she called, "You will not go to the queen with dirt in your hair. Come, let me," she offered and she came up behind him. He felt her fingers gently wind into his short hair and before he could stop it, a moan of pleasure escaped his lips. He had never had anyone wash his hair. He supposed his mother may have, but he had never had anyone else touch him so intimately. He had seen it in the few movies he had dared to sit down and watch and he would always scoff at the weakling of the man who'd let such a thing transpire.

But this—ah, this was—_good_. Her fingers slid to his neck and began to work at the tense muscles there. He began to feel the stress of the last few hours melt away beneath the magic of her fingers and he sighed. He wanted to feel that familiar anger coursing against his skin, but couldn't muster even the slightest bit of agitation as her fingers spread across the nape of his neck.

He often wondered why high powered businessman would spend hundreds of dollars on a massage. He thought it frivolous and weak. But, oh, this was—well, it was nice.

She massaged and kneaded the sensitive areas beneath and around his ears and gently coerced mud and dirt from his locks. He felt himself grow hard when she dipped down to his back. He turned and grabbed her hands.

"Stop," he told her. He couldn't take it. He was feeling like a kid again, as if he were the science nerd who couldn't control himself and she was the hot, popular girl everyone wanted.

"But you are not clean. I have to--,"

"No, I'll do it myself."

"Nonsense. You look as if you've swam in mud. And you were emitting quite a smell. Let me bathe you."

His breathe caught as she reached up and gently massaged the dirt from his pecs. His breathing became rapid and he felt his heart hammering in his chest as she traveled down the length of him.

_If she doesn't stop_, he told himself, _if she doesn't stop_….

He suddenly grabbed her and ground his mouth against hers. She resisted at first, her mouth shut tight against his assault and then—she let him in. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, as if he were punishing her for making him desire her.

Her body was soft and warm and he reveled in her planes and curves. She moaned and deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet, as if she were made of nectar and honey. Sylar wanted nothing more than to grab her by the waist, pull her legs around him and slam himself inside her….

He pushed her away roughly, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"Stay away from me," he told her.

Confusion swept across her beautiful face and she stepped closer, "Why?"

"Don't touch me, I am not having sex with you," he told her and held his hands in front of him.

She chuckled. "Don't think so highly of yourself human. I was merely curious about what it'd be like to kiss a man," she told him haughtily, "I would never _mate _with you." She threw the word out as it left a bad taste in her mouth.

She shot him a look of disgust. "Mating with a human. That is not natural."

"If my presence bothers you, I will let you bathe alone. I trust you will not try to escape," she said, the veiled threat hung in the air between them.

She turned and stalked away, retreating deeper into the recesses of the cave. Once she was gone, Sylar began to ponder his unabandoned response to her. Perhaps it was this place, perhaps it emitted some sort subsonic frequency that disrupted his powers, perhaps it was hunger, disorientation, anything but that—that—_feeling_.

He shook his head in anger. He was growing soft. He'd have to get out of here by any means necessary. He laughed bitterly. He couldn't believe that she'd left him alone. He knew he wouldn't have any other chance to escape.

He walked over to where his clothes lay in a pile and hesitantly slid on the mud encrusted trousers, shirt and socks before donning his shoes.

He slid noiselessly from the cave and into the fading daylight. The landscape looked just as it had before. He rolled his eyes and shrugged smugly. She was lying, he thought. Land doesn't change. Land is just a stupid piece of floating molten rock with no purpose other than to exist, he thought before stepping from the shadowy recesses of the cave and into the light.

He began at a brisk pace, not quite knowing where to go, but feeling as if any distance from the deranged spirit he'd met was a good thing. He laughed humorlessly. Here he was, the fearless killer, calling someone else _deranged_. If the situation weren't so damned ironic and sad he'd could probably see the humor in it. But the only thing he felt at the moment was an intense need to escape. It was a feeling he hated and despised. He hated feeling hunted, as if he were no better than an animal. He was _Syla_r, for goodness sakes. He was _special_. And before this was all over, he'd get his powers back and show that spirit bitch exactly who he was.

The thought of strangling that meadowlands queen bitch what's-her-face made a warm feeling unfurl in down his spine. Once he got his powers back, everything would be fine. He'd wake up from this hellish nightmare and everything would be normal—well, as normal as they could be for someone such as himself.


	4. Chapter 4

As he stalked past ripples of glowing fields, strange trees and flowers and he suddenly realized that he'd wondered into a dark, dense forest. The trees no longer boasted brilliant foliage and petals, but instead a terrible, aching darkness began to loom as the sun began to further fade from the sky.

The branches of the trees reached up like imploring skeletal hands and the bark was twisted and warped, the ground seemed dank and filled with thick underbrush. Sylar ignored the voice inside his head begging him to stop, to turn and run to safety. _I don't run from anyone or anything_, he thought.

A feeling of intense sadness seemed to settle across his shoulders as he stepped beneath the arboreal cover. It seemed to taint the air and hang with vestigial fear, rage and lost hope. _Nonsense_, Sylar chided himself, _these were useless emotions that were elicited from his lack of sleep and hunger. Nothing more._

As he ventured deeper into the wood, a lazy mist spilled from the ground and coated the air with a foul smell and Sylar struggled not to gag. He suddenly felt like a child from a fairy tale, a child that wonders lost into the big, bad forest only to encounter an ever bigger, badder wolf.

He chuckled noiselessly. He was a child no longer. He was special. He had purpose. He was not afraid, he assured himself.

Sylar continued on and tried not to look at the creeping creatures that skittered, scattered and slithered along the ground as he made his way in the dim moon lit night. He tried to ignore the shifting shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own and instead focused on the clearing he could barely make out ahead.

He was almost there. Just a little bit more, he told himself. Just a bit more-- He felt his legs grow sluggish and tired. He stumbled, tripped and then finally tried feverishly to extricate himself from the muck that had assembled beneath his feet, dragging him down like quicksand.

He struggled for a long moment before feeling his arms turn to lead and he could no longer use them, and they dropped useless at his side. He sighed with bitter defeat, his mind racing and screaming with a need to run, to flee, to fight this ever increasing fugue. He felt himself losing the battle and the muck sucked him down waist high. He could feel his eyes rolling back and then he opened them, looked up and saw something that made his breath catch in his throat, his heart race even faster and his mind spin and whirr with denial.

In front of him stood a vampire; at least, that's what it looked like to Sylar's battered eyesight. It was tall, absurdly thin and sported long and dangerous looking fangs. It looked almost like a human, save for the grey tinge of its skin and its leathery black wings. The creature was looking down at Sylar with feral glee and it was soon joined by a troika of others. Even more creatures surrounded Sylar, many of them were tentacled, scaly and the stuff of nightmares. The vampires spoke in a fast whirring tongue, the cadence of their words rising and falling with out end at first and then ending when the largest one grinning wildly and showing teeth.

It was apparent to Sylar that his end was nearer than it had ever had been. He had survived gun shots, explosions, subzero temperatures, and now it looked as he'd be gobbled up by something out of a Grimm's fairy tales. _Oh hell_, he thought. The biggest vampire stepped forward and then crouched. It opened it's mouth and a long, thin tongue slid forward and seemed to caress Sylar's cheek. Sylar tried to still the shudders of disgust that ran through him as the creature withdrew its tongue and left a slimy trail of saliva. Whatever it had tasted on his skin had caused it to lick its lips in anticipation. Sylar watched in horror and tried feebly to move as it opened its jaws wide and revealed rows of dangerous and sharply edged teeth. It came closer and closer, its tongue whipping the air furiously and its cohorts whining with need and hunger.

A high pitched whistle rent the air. The creature turned to look and was impaled and hooked into the nearest tree. Many of the other creatures followed before finally fleeing. White fires quickly erupted and burned the nightmarish entities that were still waiting along the ground and in the trees. The muck disappeared and Sylar found himself able to once again move.

He looked around in confusion and sought the source of his salvation. It was not other than Aydra, dressed in tight leather and the markings of a warrior smoothed across her face in vibrant and luminescent ochre. She stood a short distance away, crossbow in hand.

"Do not thank me, human," she told him, her chin raised haughtily.

"Believe me, I won't. I could have handled them myself."

"I suppose your lack of gratitude is a trait of your species. Very well. I understand that is your ignorance that impedes you from falling at my feet."

Sylar scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I would never fall at your feet."

She shrugged prettily. "I suppose I could have let them eat you, of course such a fate I would not wish on any creature in this land, seeing as they enjoy their meals to be fresh, and death can take many days. I hear they digest your skin first, then your muscles and finally your organs. But it is no matter, seeing as you could have handled them _yourself_."

Sylar grimaced and then followed her as she began to walk from the forest. They quickly cleared the area and were once again surrounded by beautiful nightlife and foliage. The air around them was light and scented. The feeling of doom and depression was quickly lifted from his shoulders and he sighed.

"There will be no more attempts to escape. You will entertain the queen as she sees fit. I will not save you again."

Sylar angrily gritted his teeth and followed her back to the cave. A feeling of helpless despair began to overtake him.


	5. Chapter 5

Some time later, Sylar was dressed in flowing robes, he was cleaned and perfumed and also tied to the back of caravan wagon. The procession moved rapidly and he sought to keep pace, his tired legs almost giving out multiple times. He was glad when everyone stopped outside a huge crystal palace. It seemed to glow with a pulsing inner light, its brilliance defying all of Sylar's logic. The gate was raised and the procession began to creep forward. He found himself in a small city. The streets were paved with fine crushed diamonds and layered with jade, turquoise and a hardened sort of kimberlite. The creatures that ran amok were of any that the human imagination could describe; winged, fanged, many with multiple arms, eyes and noses. He watched as a thing with one huge eye enclosed in pyramidal head stop to adjust its robes before going about its way. A seemingly human girl peddled her wares along the street, but as Sylar passed her he could see she had pointed ears, fangs and red eyes.

The strangeness of it all, the weirdness, grated on him and made him only wish for the mundanity of watches. He began to wish for the simplicity of gears and screws, the certainty of molecules and ions, and the great joy of understanding what was beneath his hands. The world he was in, (and he could now admit that this was no dream), felt _wrong_, it felt--unnatural somehow.

He was pushed roughly forward and he quickened his pace and soon they were entering an inner sanctum. The bustling streets gave way to quiet purple tree lined avenues and promenades and the air was filled with the flitting lights of tiny winged humans. Sirens sang atop ornate balustrades and their sweet voices seemed to dull his worries and continued walking. He caught glimpses of snake-haired women, their eyes shying away as they giggled behind perfect alabaster hands. A minotaur eyed him suspiciously as he made his way past and the challenge in its eyes nearly made Sylar stop and glared back at the hairy creature. The leather wrapped around his arms gave a painful tug and he was forced to move forward.

They reached a clearing and stopped. He tried to look and see what was ahead but could not make out anything distinct. His ties dropped away and rubbed his sore muscles. Three burly, mermen grabbed him and pulled him forward and he found himself thrust at the feet of Queen Mirell.

She clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, the fun can begin. My human is here! What wonderful stories shall you tell tonight my love?"

Sylar glared back at her in defiance, remembering the pain she had caused him earlier.

"Oh my, my, you're at a loss for words. I understand. You must be starving. Let us all feast, and after, he shall tell us magnificent stories of the mainland."

It was as if a collective breath had been held and in a rush of relief was relieve as music began. Sprites, fairies and all manner of creatures began to mix and mingle, and the smell of food rent the air with exotic aromas. Sylar's stomach growled. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. But he certainly refused to beg for food. He'd starve before he'd ask the queen for anything, even food. Luckily, Aydra pulled him to his feet, escorted him to a table and sat a huge plate of food in front of him.

"Eat. You will need your strength for what is to come."

"I refuse to be her entertainment."

"Then you will die a horrible death. What are a few stories for your survival?"

"I want out of this hell hole."

Aydra stared for a second, her eyes pleading before hardening back to its hard mask. "Very well, as you wish. But you cannot say I did not warn you." She turned to leave but Sylar caught her arm, his breath stopped at the tingle of electricity that warmed his hand at contact.

"Why—why is she keeping me here?"

Aydra shrugged indifferently, her response managing to indicate both aloofness and puzzlement. "Why does night exist? Why does a flower seek the sun? These are questions we do not ask because they have no answers. Mirell does as she pleases. She always has." Aydra looked unhappy with that proclamation.

"Why do you put up with her?," he paused "You could kill her," he nodded in Mirell's direction.

She snorted delicately and said under her breath, "Believe me, I have tried."

Sylar looked up in shock. "What?"

She smiled and pointed to his plate. "The wild game is very good this time of year."

"But--,"

"And try the tabby apple pudding. It's delicious." He watched as Aydra walked away from him.

Sylar sighed heavily, picked up his utensils and ate the strange arrangement of foods before him.

To his surprise, the food was absolutely delicious. In fact, it was extraordinarily delicious. He had to keep himself from licking the plate and nearly snarled at the pixie that came to take his plate away.

For the first time in a long time, Sylar was wonderfully full. He even felt—content. He tried to fight the feeling as it oozed down his spine and settled in his stomach. But it was too late. He felt a smile creeping onto his face and he slid down more comfortably in his chair.

"Helloooo, human," a voice rang out.

He turned and saw Ailil headed his way. He tried to summon agitation, but somehow couldn't make himself care enough. He settled for watching her breasts bounce in her tiny top and admired her hips as she sashayed over. Then he thought of Aydra and felt guilty. But as quickly as the strange emotion popped up, it died away.

"Hello, again."

"Hi, beautiful. What brings you around here? I thought you were mad at your friend over there," he slurred, and tried to figure out why he felt drunk.

Ailil pouted. "Well, only for a little while. I was only mad because she can be so mean sometimes. Don't you hate it when people are mean?" she whined prettily.

"I don't know. I guess not. Hey, what happens to you's guys tails when you're not in the water?," he asked and tried to sit up.

"Oh," she giggled, "We don't have to have tails all the time. Just for swimming. We can look human so that we can walk and run and do—other things," she told him and nipped gently at his ear lobe.

Sylar tried to fight the shudder of pleasure that raced down his spine and right to his groin.

"Human," she cooed, "Do you like my—endowments?"

Sylar found his eyes riveted to her breasts and struggled to make eye contact with her. "Why—why you talkin' to me 'bout endowments? I don't—I don't get into arrangements with women."

"Oh, we don't have to have an arrangement. It could be a friendship. _Come, Come with me_,"

His body seemed to have a will of its own. He let her lead him away, his mind buzzing with her scent, images of them doing things he hadn't thought about in years.

He trudged behind Ailil, his steps unsteady and uncertain. She led him to a chamber and into a bed. She pushed him down onto and it was like falling back into heaven.

His clothes began sliding off and he tried to protest, but she shushed him and his feelings of malaise and ennui increased, as well as his desire. It was as if he were watching from afar. He didn't want to be doing these things, but he couldn't make his body disobey.

She disrobed and slowly climbed atop him. His body was fraught with need. She slid atop his rigid member and his nearly screamed with the pleasure of it. She began slowly at first, teasing him with slow movements then increasing the tempo.

He could feel himself get close, so close….it was nothing like he'd ever felt before. He'd had women over the years, but this—this was—he cried out as he spilled himself within her.

Instead of him being spent, he felt the pressure build again and soon he found himself spilling his seed within her once more.

Each time he got his release he felt weaker and weaker. He could feel himself slipping away but could not deny himself the pleasure.

Just when he felt darkness scratching at the edges of his consciousness, he felt her convulse around him before falling in heap on his chest.

He groaned and tried to sit up. She pulled Ailil from atop him and she tumbled to the floor.

"I always knew she had a strange love for human men," Aydra said, shaking her head.

"Wh—What?" Sylar rasped.

"Do not talk. It will be a few minutes before you regain your strength."

"I—thought, you wouldn't save me again,"

Aydra leaned over him, her eyes almost tender, the corners pulled up with good natured humor, "I lied."

"What did she do?"

"Her mother is Mirell. Mirell is part succubi, therefore she is part succubi, with a fondness for humans. Whereas Mirell takes life forces in pain, Ailil does so in pleasure."

Aydra looked over at Ailil's unconscious form which lay sprawled on the floor.

"You couldn't tell me all this before she dragged me in here," he told her.

She looked down at him and shrugged. "You did not ask."

A moment later strength returned to Sylar's limbs and he sat up. Aydra had already begun to tie up Ailil and laid her gently on a chair.

"That bitch—she—_raped_ me!," he proclaimed angrily, "And you're just going to sit her in a chair? I'm going to--,"

"You will not touch her. My sister does not understand what she does. It is her nature."

"Your sister?," he asked, the question sounded harsh and she flinched.

"She and I share the same father."

Sylar growled, "I don't understand it. Why are you helping me?"

"You are a mainlander. You can help me. Mirell stole my brother out of jealousy and spite, thinking my father favored my mother over her, and then sent him away. He disappeared into the mainland wilderness seventy years ago. I've been searching for him ever since the night she sent him to that distant place. Each time a human gets sent here, I think they may be able to help me find my brother. But no one has been able to help, but you—you are different. Special."

The words caressed him like a gentle kiss. He shivered. It must be the aftereffects of the succubi, he reasoned.

Sylar smirked. "This is all true, but I don't want to help you. I need to help myself off this island," Sylar slipped off the bed and found he felt stronger than he had since before landing on the beach.

Sylar thought he saw her face fall into sadness for a second before slipping back into haughty indifference.

"Have it your way human. It would seem only fair considering I've saved you multiple times from certain expiry since you gotten to this place. Besides, if you help me find my brother, I'll help you get off this island."

Sylar considered her offer for a moment. "I don't think you can be trusted."

"My dear, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain."

Sylar was silent for a moment. "Do you have a plan?"

Her smile said it all.


	6. Chapter 6

"The queen is in rare form this night," Aydra remarked as they trotted out to join the revelry.

"Do you think she missed us?"

"No," she replied, "The wraiths haven't even made an appearance."

Sylar did NOT want to know, to ask, or even think about the concept of wraiths, so he stood silently and observed the festivities.

The party was in full swing and debauchery was everywhere. Couples were frisking each other, running half naked here and there and the sounds of music filled the air as well as the aroma of food and drink.

Sylar scoffed. "At least she knows how to throw a party,"

Sylar watched as a beautiful nymph raced by, followed by a very amorous troll. She squealed delightedly when he caught her and they tumbled to the ground.

"So what's the plan," Sylar asked as he sidestepped, barely missing getting hit by a blast of fairy dust as a female fairy chased a short green man racing by on a tiny wooden bike.

"You come back Pythaerus," the little fairy screamed, "Oooh, I'll get you for this! I cannot believe you ate all the flowers in my garden!"

The green man laughed uproariously as he created a path through the festivities and Sylar sighed heavily, wanting to be away from this madness.

"You will obtain her ring. It is the seat of her power. With it, we can journey past the boundaries of this land and find the mistress. Once we find the mistress, I can find my brother," she glanced at him, "And you can leave this place."

"And how do you suppose--," he lifted an eyebrow and smirked, "I obtain a ring from a woman who tried to kill me only hours earlier?"

"You are a man. Seduce her."

Sylar looked at Aydra with a mixture of disbelief and anger. There was no conceivable way he was going anywhere _near_ that woman, let alone seduce her.

"I was hoping for a something a little more--,"

"More what?"

"I don't know. More gruesome. Perhaps a dagger through her heart. Drop something heavy on her head, perhaps, I don't know--something that would—say—_kill her_?"

Aydra smiled evilly. "Oh, you silly human. Taking her ring _will_ kill her. The ring can only be removed by one she desires—and seeing as she hates my father and that he could cares more about tupping pretty maids than removing a despot, I think you will do nicely,"

"She tried to _kill_ me. She tried to _eat_ my life force. I don't think she'd be tempted to jump into bed with me."

"You do not have to bed her, just make her desire you," she winked at him, and he felt his stomach clench with desire for a moment and his breath caught. "Besides all that," she continued, "She has a special fondness for human men too. Like mother, like daughter."

She pushed him forward. "Go on. Do it."

He paused, squared his shoulders and then moved forward.

He found himself in front of the queen. In a move of deference he kneeled down to her and gave her a pretty smile, or at least the smile he gave most people before he murdered them. He wondered if she would find it appealing. When she answered back in kind he knew what he had to do.

*****

They rode through the desert silently; the only sound was the occasional neigh of the horned horses and the wind kicking up sand into their tired faces. Sylar pulled his robe more tightly around his face, trying in vain to avoid the grit of the particles constantly flowing into his eyes.

Aydra broke the silence first. "I cannot believe it. She is dead. She is really and truly dead," she turned to him, "How did you accomplish such a feat?"

"Well, you told me to seduce her," Sylar answered and pulled the robe from his face.

"I figured it would work, but not after five minutes. I expected a few glasses of mead, some flattery of some sort, but I did not expect her to turn to stone in less than the space of a few moments. How did you get her to remove the ring?"

"I didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"She never removed her ring. She gave me her hand to kiss and I simply removed her finger."

"Hmmph," Aydra said, considering then "Oh," she gasped, "Ewwww, you removed her finger by biting it off?!"

"Well, I found that I didn't quite like the thought of having to kiss ass to get what I wanted. So I took it instead."

He turned and expected her to be horrified and equally shocked. Instead a smile broke out over her beautiful face and she said, "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Wish I had thought of such a thing years ago."

Her compliment made a part of him tingle with delight and pleasure. He found himself smiling and feeling better than he had since he had gotten to the island.

The journey through the desert gave way to a sparse and wintry land dotted with pillars of rock and floating rivers of silvery liquid.

Frozen figurines sat in various poses of despair and Aydra whispered, "The Great Sorrows. Do not, do not look upon them. To see their pain and suffering, will be your end. No matter what you hear, you do not gaze into their eyes."

A kind of sallow gloom settled upon them as they continued past the figures. There were more behind a ridge as they crossed and Sylar stared straight ahead, confident that Aydra underestimated him.

"_Gabriel_," a disembodied called out to him.

"Did you hear that?" Sylar said and turned to Aydra as she rode beside him.

She shook her head and pointed ahead. "Never look back."

"_Gabriel, how can you ignore me? I loved you and this is how you repay me?!!!!"_

Aydra was studying Sylar closely. "Whatever you hear, do not listen."

He could have sworn he heard the voice of his mother. But he continued on.

"_Gabriel, you killed me. How can you kill your own mother_," the voice wailed, and he felt a trickle of emotion slide dangerously down from that cold hard space in his head and into his consciousness.

"_You never loved me, you never loved me, and I gave you all of me, even my life!"_

His mother's voice gave way to many others; voices from his past sprang up and rent the air. He could hear his old high school gym teacher Mr. Ericson, who tried to touch him inappropriately in the locker room. He could hear the snickers of the football team and almost felt like a child again, being stuffed into a locker, helpless and alone. He could hear the laughter of all the girls he wanted to date, their raucous taunts sliding against his ears.

"_Hey geek boy, I'll never go out with you, why don't you ask your left hand instead?"_

The voices of neighborhood children filled his ears and he could feel tears of anger welling in his eyes.

"_Dog boy, dog boy, go home!"_

"_You don't even know who your dad is, I bet your mother was a whore!"_

The voices continued and Sylar struggled to stay atop his equestrian ride.

"_Son, you're a disappointment. How could you get a B? I thought you were special, different!"_

"_You're a killer, a monster, no one will ever love you!"_

Even Elle, a woman he had tried hard to forget, seemed to be whispering in his ear:

"_You're not special Gabriel, you're pathetic! Do you think I could ever love you? You're nothing. You steal what others have because deep down you're really just a scared little boy who wants to cry to mommy."_

The voices of his victims then came to the fore, accusing him, and lashing out in angry waves. A cacophony of voices spilled over him, pushing him into deep despair, anger and loss and he felt his grip on the reins loosening and he began to slip off the saddle.

"Human!" Aydra screamed.

He could barely hear her beneath the barrage of voices.

"Fight human, fight!," she cried. But he was tired, so tired of fighting. He was so tired of trying to be special and different. Maybe they were all right. Perhaps he was pathetic. A shadow of what he really wanted to be. He was nothing.

He slipped off the horse onto the hard ground.

He could tell Aydra was still screaming, but her voice seemed softer now. He stood and turned and what he saw literally froze him to death.

It was darkness, defeat, anger, loss, despair, mourning, rejection, and desperation in those eyes. The eyes were everywhere he looked. They sucked him into the pools of emptiness and he sank into their dank recesses. He fell into the cold, cold depths of those eyes, they knew him, and they consumed him, became him. He was beyond touch, taste or smell, he was only the coldness around him. _So cold—so coooold_……

His hearing went first, then his sight, then—he could feel nothing but the cold, after a moment, even that disappeared and he could feel his consciousness slipping away—he was becoming—nothing at all.


	7. Chapter 7

He was floating in dark ether, neither here nor there, but—a spark ignited within him. The darkness became less of a material thing, less physical and he could—feel again. He was _he_. A concept. An idea. A molecule of purpose floating in void of nonexistence. The darkness began to rail against him, to dissipate the grain of consciousness that began to form around him. He felt himself melding into the nothingness once more, going to that place-not-a-place. Once again something pulled into him, made him remember, pushed into recesses that he no longer thought he had.

That's right! He was a person! A human! A man! Ideas, equations, theorems, rationalizations, thoughts and notions began to form into hard, jagged crystalline shapes. His mind began to form again. The darkness wailed. Rebeled. Pushed and prodded. But it was too late. He existed. He _wanted_ to exist. Softness rubbed against his cheeks and then his lips. _ Touch_! He cried inwardly, _I had forgotten_…..

Who was touching him? Where was he? He was cold. Unbearably cold. But then something warm slid over him and he was—warm. Warmth. The concept was alien to him. Then he began to remember. Warmth was sunshine flowing over his back on a crisp autumn day. Warmth was an apple pie fresh out of the oven. Warmth was—her lips upon his—

He suddenly opened his eyes and gasped. He took in gulps of air and sputtered. He was staring into a pair of beautiful, brown eyes, the corners slightly slanted and exotic, and the lashes thick and long.

Tears coated those lashes, and splashed down onto a smooth brown cheek. This—creature was kissing him and repeatedly saying "Human,"

He didn't know what this was—but he was enjoying her breasts crushed against his body, the feel of her arms around him, and her hair tickling his shoulders. He mimicked her actions and pressed his lips against hers. She fell silent and still for a moment, but then her kisses became insistent. He found himself opening his mouth and trying to taste her tongue. She was like—like—honey. Sweet, delectable honey. He cooed into her mouth as her kisses grew fevered. He felt his hands grow itchy, impatient, wanting—something. He found that he seemed to like the feel of her body beneath them. He began to explore her curves and her symmetry with anxious fingers and soon let his tongue follow.

She began to breathe in out quickly. He found that his breath too had hitched and came faster and faster. Pleasure surged through him as her hands began to smooth themselves over his skin, teasing the delicate places below, before coming to his chest and shoulders. Their kisses grew deeper and more passionate. He felt his body begging for something he couldn't describe, but needed. He needed her. This creature laying atop him, smelling like sunshine and honey and good things.

She unraveled his robe and he pulled at her tunic. He grew frustrated that the material seemed bent upon remaining obstacle between him and her smooth and lustrous skin. He thought he heard her chuckle before she fidgeted and the tunic was gone. He moaned when they finally lay skin to skin. She was rubbing against him, slowly and sensuously. He groaned and buried his face in the softness of her hair. He licked the crook of her neck and she bucked slightly with pleasure. He felt her touch him_ there_, and a feeling of wonder and amazement overwhelmed him as her long, slender fingers stroked his sensitive skin, skimming over his tip and down the shaft.

And then—there was a glorious and gentle warmth as he felt himself slide into her. _ She was so tight—so tight—soooo tiiiiiiggghtt---_

Her body seemed to be milking him, sucking pleasure from him. But unlike some other time he could remember, there was no feeling of losing oneself, no feeling of loss. Instead, he could feel himself coming closer and closer to some unknown yet wonderful release. He yearned for and strove for it with each seductive roll of her hips, and every flick of her pelvis. He was soooo close. The feeling was intense, that he could lay beneath her, holding onto her as he sailed wave upon wave of excruciating ecstasy.

He wanted to _come_, but he was afraid that such a release would destroy him. But surely if it did, he would die happy. And then, there it was, rising over him like the sun. Inevitable and enjoyable, so pleasurable it was almost pain. She convulsed around him, softly at first, then in firm and insistent waves. He couldn't hold back any longer, he'd reached the edge, or rather the edge reached him, and it splashed over him like a waterfall. He fell down into a deep and abiding abyss of contentment, his body spasming as he filled her with his seed.

His mind began to clear after a few moments. And then he began to remember everything—the queen, the ride in the desert, and the sorrows. He had been nothing. And he had somehow come back to the world of the living. Not existing had taught him something he had always known, but never really knew. He had always been special and different—not in spite of his existence—but because of it.

Aydra stared down into his eyes, the dark pools were questioning, wondering. He kissed her gently on the lips and smiled.

"Thank you."

She awkwardly pushed herself off him and began to hastily pull on her clothes.

"That was not the sentiment I was hoping for. But coming from you, it is something."

Sylar was confused. "Are you angry?"

"I—I do not know what it is I feel."

They were both silent for a moment before he spoke. "Aydra, it was wonderful, beautiful, something I've never felt before. You brought me back from the edge and for that I am grateful."

Her hard expression softened as she gazed at him. She sighed deeply and said, "I did not expect that the first time I mated, it would be with a human."

Sylar's breath hitched. "You were a virgin?"

"Yes," she replied and turned away, as if she were ashamed.

"I had no idea--," Sylar began, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," she replied.

He brushed her hair gently from her face. "Do you regret it?"

"No," she said again.

They sat in silence for a moment. "Human--,"

"Gabriel. My name is Gabriel. Most people call me Sylar. But I don't feel like him right now."

She blinked in confusion, and then smiled. "Okay, then, _Gabriel_, it was—I never knew it could be that way. I—I," she stopped and turned away.

He pulled her close, kissed her the cheek and held her for awhile. They said nothing as he dressed and they made a fire in the cave. The flames flickered and danced around the kindling. As the flames skittered and wove in between the bracken, so did their hearts race and stutter around each other. Her heart skipped when he smiled, his breath caught when he gazed the delicate flick of her wrist. They were at an impasse, afraid to move forward, but unable to go back. Finally, he cleared his throat and placed his hand atop hers.

"Where do we go from here?"

She avoided his eyes and shrugged just as prettily as always, but the indifference she always wore was replaced with a feeling of uncertain vulnerability.

The old him, the he that had been _Sylar_, would have cringed at the sight of such vulnerability. Sylar would have shunned it, saw it as a weakness and capitalized on it. Instead, he was touched, and afraid. He examined his feelings for a moment. Then—yes-there it was. He was baffled, confused and amazed. He was afraid. Not afraid of her, but afraid _for_ her, and afraid of losing her.

She sighed and her breath fanned his chest and desire stirred within him once more. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. It was maddening and exciting all at once.

She looked up and into his eyes. "My mother had a saying, she would say 'Live each day as if the sun would tumble from the sky and the stars would fall, and the wind would crash.'"

"Gabriel," she continued, "Let us love each other. Let's not think about tomorrow."

He gazed into her eyes for a moment. Noticing the unspilled tears, pulled her into his arms and loved her over and over until the sun rose into the sky.

They awakened to the harsh cry of birds outside the cave. She shook him gently and stared at him with fearful eyes.

"It is time to go. It is the last part of our journey."

He sighed. He didn't want their time with each other to end. He even began to question if he even wanted to go home. Wherever home was. His old life had been filled with nothing but an aching emptiness. He didn't want to go back to that. His head and his heart felt clearer than they ever had. But he had to at least help her find her brother. He rubbed her hands in long, gentle strokes then rose to his feet.

"Where are we going? To some weird unicorn land, some ancient place filled with dragons?"

She shook her head. Her eyes going wide and her body shaking with fear. "No, much worse. We're going to the place where our world began."

"What place is that praytell?" he asked.

"A land call Primatech. It is where mistress resides."

A chill ran down Sylar's spine and he began to understand her fear, because now, he was beginning to be very, very afraid.


	8. Chapter 8

The land before them was harsh, vast and deserted. Winds whipped about the large building in the distance and blew dirt and debris against the field of abandoned automobiles and broken bottles.

The sound of their steps echoed chillingly in the air and Gabriel paused. His eyes took in the deserted landscape, but his gut was telling him that something was there, watching. He looked down into the dirt and noticed something buried there.

He pulled an old sign from the ground and swept the dirt from the face of it. It read:

"Welcome to the Primatech Paper Company!

Paper is our Business!"

_Paper wasn't the only thing_, Gabriel thought. He remembered the short time he'd been captured in one of their facilities. He'd been stripped of his powers, taunted and tortured but managed to escape. He didn't want to go back, even if it did appear deserted. But he had to. For her.

He turned to find Aydra staring at him thoughtfully. "Gabriel, are you well?"

"I'm fine," he said brusquely. "Let's get this over with. This place—it isn't right."

They walked five feet and hit a wall. It was as if the air itself had solidified into a great, solid shield, preventing them from going any further.

"The ring, Gabriel," Aydra told him, "Use it."

Gabriel dug the ring from his outer pockets. "Okay…I'm not sure what--,"

The ring began to warm in his hands. So warm it burned him and he dropped it into the dirt.

Sparks flew up from the ring and Gabriel jumped away, pulled Aydra with him. "Cover your eyes!" He told her as the ring blazed brighter than a thousand suns and warmed the ground beneath them.

Lightning flashed in the distance and thunder rumbled menacingly above them. The light became weaker and weaker until only a slow, dull throb remained and even that was soon gone. The skies were quiet once more and Gabriel took an experimental step forward and Aydra soon followed.

"I don't like this," Gabriel told her, "Something isn't right."

Aydra didn't answer, but she pulled a wickedly long dagger from a strap on her thigh and told him, "Let's go."

A large parking lot surrounded the building they approached. The asphalt had long since cracked and split, and tangles of weeds sprung up between the spaces.

Gabriel's nerves were on edge. They felt raw and taut, as if they were drawn so far out, that anything would cause them to snap. Yet he forced his feet to move forward and made certain that he kept Aydra within sight.

Giant birds sliced the air from above their heads, circling as if in wait, then finally landing atop several precipices on the building. They stared at Gabriel and Aydra with predatory eyes as they continued their approach.

Gabriel began to feel even more unsettled and as they came to the entrance, he stopped and listened.

"Let me go first, Aydra, if I tell you to run, then don't look back. Just do it."

Her lips set into a determined line. "I will never leave you, Gabriel."

His heart stopped as his eyes drank her in. He was touched beyond words. An alien emotion swept through him, brushing aside years of doubts, fears and worries. He felt happy and anxious, giddy and concerned, but not for himself. Though death terrified him, living without her seemed to pose an even greater threat. And he could not—would not—put her in harm's way.

"I don't care what happens, Aydra, I mean it. I want you to save yourself if the time comes."

She nodded as if she agreed, but her eyes said otherwise. Gabriel sighed in frustration.

"Let's go."

She followed him inside. The doors looked as if something had long ago taken them off the hinges and they hung haphazardly from their corners. The glass that they had contained had shattered, and bits of them still lay upon the tile.

The waiting area still boasted a few chairs and tables, though they were all flung in different places, many of them broken and twisted. Wild plants grew everywhere and a dank odor hung in the air.

They walked along the hall and Gabriel grabbed Aydra's hand. They walked along in the near darkness to a door that had been blasted open. At one time it had looked inconspicuous, had probably blended in with the wall, but now lay open to anyone who cared to venture into its depths. Gabriel didn't like those depths. Without his powers, he felt helpless. _No, he would not let Aydra down_. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward. He would make sure they got out alive, with or without his powers.

He looked around quickly. An idea formed and he ripped a corner of his robe. He ran back to a chair that been broken into pieces and grabbed a leg. He wrapped a thick wad of cloth around the leg and tied it securely.

"Aydra," he told her, "Can you make white fire, like you did before?"

She nodded, became still, and after a moment, her hands were enveloped in white flame. She touched the broken chair leg and the fabric ignited. Gabriel looked at the flame as it burned. He looked back at Aydra and saw that she had already extinguished the flames that crawled about her hands. Gabriel remembered that there had been a time when he would have easily killed her for such an ability; he would have tried to open up her head and see why her genes had gifted her with such qualities, and would have wanted her powers for himself.

Now, such a thought only filled him with disgust, loathing and sadness.

"Follow me, I'll lead."

Aydra nodded reluctantly, but followed as they began to descend into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

The staircase seemed to spiral down indefinitely. They walked for what for what felt like hours, but it was truly only the space of one hour. The depressive heat and the darkness lay upon Gabriel's shoulder like a cloak, setting his already tense nerves on fire. His entire body felt itchy and achy, and he was fighting a rising tide of vertigo.

He looked over at Aydra, and she seemed as she always did: beautiful and calm. "Are you okay Aydra?"

She nodded mutely and he clasped her hand tighter. He could feel her fear clawing up his arms and into his spine and he began to rub her fingers reassuringly as they reached the landing.

They stood inside a complex of glass enclosed cells. Computer terminals encircled one wall, and when Gabriel held the flame aloft he noticed a generator feed along the wall. Curious, he stalked over and pulled a series of levers. Light flooded the area and the hum of machines began to envelope the space. Gabriel extinguished the flames and looked around them.

A holographic image of a nicely dressed brunette suddenly appeared before them. Her cheery smile was oddly out of place with the dank and deserted surroundings.

"I am Fiona. Short for Fully Integrated Operational and Navigational Access. You have reached area #343. Test subjects A1341 through A1505. I am the alpha program for this sector."

Gabriel stepped forward and walked around the program, her eyes tracked his movements and she turned to face him.

"Do you have questions?"

"Yes," Gabriel answered, "What happened here."

"I do not follow," the holograph answered.

"What was the date of your last activation Fiona?"

"Terran Date: January 25, 2005."

"What occurred on that date Fiona?"

"All systems failed, emergency procedures were initiated. I was shut down for one hour. I came back online at 0100 hours. I was not advised. I shut down to conserve energy."

"You shut down?"

"Yes, I was not advised."

She continued smiling as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a person to have a conversation with a holographic image.

Gabriel gasped as the full intent of her words became clear. She was not advised. Meaning: everyone had either been killed or left.

"Fiona, where are the test subjects? Do you know if they were removed?"

"I do not follow."

"Where are the test subjects, where did they go?"

The hologram blinked, and then smiled serenely, "They were never removed. They are here within the facility." A shiver of apprehension slithered over Gabriel and he fought not to shudder.

"Fiona," Gabriel asked, "You mentioned a Terran date. Why?"

"That is the authorized coding system for all standardized dates. The borderlands are not in alignment with our indices."

"We have to find the mistress Gabriel," Aydra reminded him.

"I doubt she'll be able to help us unless we have a name."

Aydra looked lost in thought for a moment then replied, "It is obscured in legend, but it is said that she born beneath the name of—of—Melissa Adams." Aydra's eyes widened, "It was considered blasphemy to speak her true name."

Gabriel smirked. "Well, I've always been one to buck dogma. Sister Mary Helen always said I'd grow up into a heathen. I guess she was right."

"Fiona," he called out, "Search your databases for a Melissa Adams."

"Accessing," the hologram replied with closed eyes.

A moment later Fiona's eyes popped open and she smiled brightly.

"Test subject A2303 is in our database"

"How do we access test subject A2303, Fiona?"

"Take the elevators to tenth floor B. I can accompany you."

A moment later, Aydra and Gabriel found themselves riding the lift down with Fiona, who cheerfully hummed along with the boring elevator music that was piping in. Gabriel rolled his eyes and made a new hit list with Fiona's name atop it. He didn't know if perky holographic programs could die, but if she didn't stop whistling to an old jazz rendition of Britney Spears' _Toxic_, he would find a way to do it.

The doors suddenly opened and Fiona pointed. "This way please."

They traipsed down rows of plexi-cells and before they could round the corner, a huge spider-like creature about the size of a cow screamed at them in anger. "Fiona!" Gabriel cried, "Do something."

He turned and saw that Fiona had gone back into the elevator, her cheery smile a pleasant fuck-you as she punched in a floor number "I'm sorry, but I am not the alpha for this sector." _Bitch_, Gabriel thought as he watched the elevator doors close.

The spider's antennae twitched in the air and it screamed once more. Snapping larvae whipped out of the spiders' mouth each time it screamed and acid dripped from the spider's thorax, and burned into the flooring below it.

_Okay, Gabriel thought, I'll distract it and keep it away from Aydra_. But then another Spider jumped from behind one of the plexi-cells. _Oh fuck, _Gabriel thought, his mind unable to process any slightly more sophisticated epithets.

Aydra tried to blast them with white fire, but it seemed to have no effect, save to make them even angrier.

"Hey, you, over here!" Gabriel screamed. He pushed Aydra behind him. "Remember when I said run and don't ask questions?"

"Yes," she replied,

"Well, RUN!!!"

"No! I will not leave you!"

"Gee, honey, that's nice and all, but I'd really rather you get the _hell out of here_."

She refused to budge. Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Please Aydra. I'll be right behind you, I promise."

She turned reluctantly and began to sprint down the hall, periodically looking back at him.

"Go! Aydra go!"

Yet a third spider came from its hiding place and Gabriel watched in horror and it jumped over Aydra, its mouth inches from devouring her.

"NO!!!," he screamed.

Lightning danced across his finger tips and then across his entire body. Before he could think about it, he blasted the spider over Aydra with an intense wall of electricity. He quickly turned and did the same to the other two behind him. Slimy goo and steamy entrails lined the walls, floor and some of the cells.

Gabriel ran over to Aydra and helped her up, all the while checking for injuries, blubbering senselessly and alternately hugging and kissing her.

"You have great magicks, Gabriel. Thank you."

"Are you all right?," Gabriel inquired, his breath catching in his throat.

"Yes, I am well," she replied, "Shall we continue?"

Gabriel kissed her lips, not at all bothered by the goo that clung to her hair and face.

"Let's get out of here."

"We have to find her, Gabriel," she told him.

"No, you almost—almost--," he said, his voice breaking.

"Please Gabriel. For my brother."

Gabriel sighed and nodded. "Okay. Come on." He eased her up and they continued walking past the dead spiders and made a right. Gabriel was hoping he was going in the right direction. He was relieved that at least he had static ability.

They continued past rows of cells, some of them occupied by creatures and species unlike any that Gabriel had ever seen. Gabriel tried not to worry about the cells that lay empty. He breathed a sigh of relief each time they rounded a corner and there was nothing evil and salivating ready to pop out and say 'hi.'

Without Fiona to guide them, Gabriel had to deduce the position of Melissa's cell. Many of the cages were unmarked, but some were, and seemed to indicate a quadrant or a corner of the sector.

He noticed the marked ones and the layout became crystal clear. They were heading in the right direction. He and Aydra cautiously edged around a corner and swept down another spiraling staircase. The drone of machinery was loud and incessant, and the lights flickered on and off, and in the area there was general decay and disaster.

Before them lay a huge cell surrounded by water. The cell was like a giant island in the center of the level.

"What now?" Gabriel wondered aloud.

Aydra began to strip. "We swim across."

"Aydra, I don't know if you've noticed the creepy monsters or anything. You know, the creatures that seem to want to _eat_ us? But I don't think you should go into that water. There's no telling what's in there. I'll go. You stay here."

"Gabriel, I am not a child. I am fully capable of taking of myself."

"I don't doubt your ability to protect yourself Aydra. I just don't trust whatever's in that water."

But before he could stop her, she had already slipped her dagger between her teeth and dived into the water, her tail manifesting itself in a sparkling array of silvery scales and delicate fins.

Gabriel sighed and dived in as well, trying to match Aydra's powerful strokes. _Women_, Gabriel thought as he watched her proud head bobbing in the water.

"We're nearly there, keep going," Gabriel intoned. They both reached the island and were preparing to climb up when he felt something latch onto his leg.

"Aydra, go, get out of the water!"

She scrambled up and then tried in vain to pull him up. But it was no use, he was stuck.

"Go, Go, Go, leave me Aydra!"

And then they saw what had latched onto his leg. _Oh, great_, Gabriel thought, _it's another little beastie. Big surprise there. _

It was the ugliest S.O.B. that Gabriel had ever laid his eyes on. It looked almost human, but its oversized cranium and exposed organs said otherwise. It had black eyes, and dual lids, sunken cheeks and horns growing from its forehead. It got up close to Gabriel and growled, then hissed. Its tongue was barbed and boasted spikes.

Gabriel tried to summon his electricity, but it sputtered and died. "Oh, _come on_," he moaned. So he did only what he could do in the situation. He punched it hard in the face.

"Run, Aydra, run!" he cried, before the thing grabbed him and took him under. He could hear Aydra's screams as he tried desperately to get away from the creature. But it was like a constrictor. Its body had looped itself around Gabriel's rib cage and was exerting a tremendous amount of force.

Panic was flooding his system and the adrenaline boost gave him the strength to reach into the thing's cavity and pull hard. Gabriel felt a satisfying crunch, and the creature loosened his hold. Gabriel struggled to the surface. Too late he noticed a flash of silver in the water.

_Noooo_, he thought.

Aydra and the creature were wrestling. Her powerful tail was wrapped around its neck and she was trying desperately to squeeze the life from it. The creatures struggles were dying down and it was working it seemed, that was, until it bit into her tail.

Her mouth opened in shock and rage and she let go. Her body was unmoving and she floated to the surface.

Gabriel screamed with anger, rage and sorrow. The creature turned its sights back onto Gabriel but before he could comprehend what was happening, a blast of red light came out of his hands and the monster began to liquefy.

Its face melted and the water began to turn red from its blood. It thrashed and moaned. Gabriel swam quickly to Aydra and pulled her from the water.

The water bubbled and gushed, tentacles came from beneath and splashed down, leaving bloodied water filled with guts, organs and other matter upon the surface.

Gabriel held Aydra in his arms. She wasn't breathing. He tried mouth to mouth resuscitation but to no avail. After a few minutes she still didn't stir. Gabriel felt hot tears run down his face and onto hers.

He delicately touched her tail and then lowered his head and did something he had not done since he was a child: he cried.


	10. Chapter 10

At first he thought he was imagining things, but after a moment he realized that Aydra was struggling in his arms.

"Can't breathe," she mumbled.

He pulled away from her and she coughed and then spit up bloodied water.

"I thought you were—I thought you died," he said. He was so relieved that his whole body was shaking from it.

"Merfolk are a hardy species. We don't die easily," she said and smiled. "Though, that little bugger did a number on my tail."

He looked down and could see the bite. It was angry looking. Gabriel touched it gingerly. "Does it hurt?"

"A bit. But it's already starting to heal. Look," she told him. And sure enough, the bite was gradually starting to close. She gasped and then her tail began to become drier and browner and then eventually turned into a lovely pair of brown legs.

"That really stung. I won't be able to walk."

"Don't worry, I'll carry you."

He gently grasped her in his arms and headed toward the cell.

"You killed my creation!" a voice rang out.

Gabriel turned and saw an elderly man with salt and pepper hair approaching with a weapon.

"If you were talking about ugly back there, it was trying to kill me and the woman I love."

At the word love he heard Aydra gasp. But Gabriel didn't have time to ponder his words.

"Love," the man said and lowered his gun a fraction. "I remember that. It was love that drove me to create my—_children_." he said, his voice managing to be sinister, loving and perverted at the same time.

Gabriel gave the man a look of puzzlement. The man sighed, lowered the gun and walked near the water. "I cannot blame you. Leviathan has long since ceased being controllable. It had become autonomous. Like the rest."

The man walked over to the huge cell sitting in the middle of the space. He punched a series of buttons and the shield around it lowered and revealed a sleeping child floating in fluid.

"She is what you seek I presume," he asked. "I will not allow you to harm her. She is the greatest discovery of all. Melissa--," he moaned in wonderment, "Oh, how wonderful she is! How magnificent."

"She helped me create them! My wondrous creations. They told me to stop. They told me she could not be controlled or contained, but I—could not let them--,"

"Who?," Gabriel asked.

"The company. They wanted to contain all people with abilities. Control them. But I had a vision. I wanted to—to—take their abilities to the next level. _Change the world_. They wouldn't let me. But that was until Melissa came along."

He fingered the glass lovingly and sighed. "I had no doubt Melissa would be my greatest achievement. And she was--," his voice cracked, "Until the company demanded that I shut down my facility."

"They said the creatures were too dangerous, too unpredictable."

He paused and then with a sad shake of his head continued. "Melissa was special. Different. She had a unique ability. She could create anything from her imagination. Whole worlds, universes, dimensions. All matter of things can be created from the mind of a child. She was my instrument, my tool. But the company was angry. They said that her creations had begun to turn dark, ugly and dangerous. But they did not see what I saw; they did not see their beauty."

Gabriel gasped and looked down at Aydra, who stared back at him with consternation.

"So that whole world out there, that entire land was created—by a child?"Gabriel ventured hesitantly.

"Yes," the man answered excitedly, "Yes my dear boy."

"Is it—Is it even real?" Gabriel inquired.

"Oh yes. As real as you or I. That is the beauty of it. Can you imagine such god-like powers in the hands of a child?" he crooned.

"I envied her that gift. Wanted it for myself. She is a child. She does not deserve to be a god," the man said fervently.

Gabriel looked at the ranting man, and felt the last bit of _Sylar_, fission into a tiny particles and dissolve and disappear. He had been like that once, a monster, driven by the blind need for power and control. Such sentiments only sickened him now.

"And her creations," Gabriel probed, "What about them?"

"Oh, they are autonomous. Capable of independent thought. Some formed societies, cultures and even languages. Whole histories were created. They hailed Melissa as their creator."

Aydra gasped and slid down from Gabriel's arms onto the floor. She was shaking. Gabriel tried to soothe her, but she pushed him gently away.

"Melissa did not understand the depth of her power. She first brought her imaginary friends to life. Followed, by various characters she glimpsed in fairy tales and movies. She was a child after all," the man said _child_, as if the concept disgusted him.

"But it was me that pushed her to her limits. Me! She would have been stuck making stupid fairies and sorcerers had I not guided her, molded her. But they took that away. They tried to kill her, but they could not. Her creations were too numerous and she was linked to them all. She cannot die. She will not die."

"So," the scientist explained, "They locked her up here, in this facility. They placed a serum into her blood, filled with tiny machines that will make her sleep forever. They cordoned off the island to contain her creations. But I have been working ceaselessly to awaken her. One day I will succeed."

A shiver ran down Gabriel's spine. This man was _completely_ off his rocker. If he thought to awaken her and to create a legion of monsters, then he had to be stopped. He couldn't let that happen. Some of those creations had almost killed Aydra.

"What happened to everyone at this facility, doctor," Gabriel said conversationally as he surreptitiously rolled a small ball of electricity in his hand.

"They tried to shut me down. But I unleashed my children. The screams of the dying were music to my ears," he laughed. "It was the only way for them to know, the beauty, the magnificence."

Gabriel extended his hand. He had to take this man down before he succeeded in making the world into his nightmarish vision. But just as he was about to unleash a ball of electricity into the man's chest, Aydra cried out.

"Wait!," she stopped him. "I need to know. I need to know what ever became of my brother."

The scientist scratched his head. "There were so many creations I can not keep up with them all. They can breed you know. Like us."

"But he was banished here. He came to the mainland, I must find him!" she screamed, her voice breaking in agony.

The scientist studied her for a moment and then smiled. "Ah, you are one of the merfolk. I had a merfolk once. He had been in cryosuspension for some years. He was dark, like you. Aesthetically stunning. I was given him by a higher up at the company. I will never forget him. He said his name was—ah, yes, Adrastos."

Aydra gasped loudly and pleaded, "Please, he was my brother. What became of him?"

The scientist shook his head. "I'm sorry my dear. He was a casualty of my war. He succumbed to injuries he sustained when I tried to inject a series of –serums into his bloodstream to make him faster and stronger. He did not survive."

"No!" Aydra cried and she fell into a sobbing heap.

"Ah my dear. He was a great creation. Do not cry. His sacrifice only served to fuel my endeavors. I went on to create many more glorious things. He was a great _specimen_."

Now Aydra was hiccupping and blubbering hysterically. Gabriel's heart was breaking as he witnessed her grief. He put his hand before him. "Well think of this as a parting gift doctor."

"No!, Wait! Please, I have to complete my work, my creations! I have to--,"

Gabriel blasted him into oblivion. He looked at the man's smoldering remains with a sick, twisted kind of satisfaction. _Yeah, Creation THAT_, Gabriel thought.

He pulled Aydra into his arms and smoothed his hands over her hair and lay soft kisses over her face and neck.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he told her, "I'm so sorry. It'll be okay, It'll be okay," he soothed. She curled up in his arms and sobbed.

She was quiet. Too quiet. As they motored toward civilization she had not said more than two words. She perked up when they reached the California shore and walked onto a beach.

"What is this place," she asked in wonder as she gazed the buildings in the distance.

"It's called California," he told her, "Costa Verde specifically."

"Costa Verde," the words trilled out pleasantly as they rolled off her tongue.

"My brother would have loved to see this place," she intoned and Gabriel grabbed her and pulled her close.

"Let's get something to eat. You want a hot dog?" he asked.

"What is that?"

"You'll see,"

After two messy hot dogs, a trip to the zoo, and several éclairs later, they lay exhausted upon a bed in a hotel suite. He nuzzled her neck and she sighed.

"I do not want to go back," she told him.

His heart seemed to burst from joy, happiness and relief. She turned teary eyes to him, "You do not mind do you? If I stay here with you?"

"Of course not."

"Though I will miss Ailil. Perhaps I will see her again some day."

"Perhaps."

She smiled sadly at him and he began to kiss her, seeking to soothe away her pain. He had felt pain like that once, and he never wanted her to feel that again.

"Gabriel," she told him.

"Yes," he replied.

"I think I love you," she said.

"Thank you."

She pinched him playfully. "That was not the sentiment I was looking for."

"Well, what about this sentiment?" he asked as he lowered his head and began to slowly and tenderly show her all the things he felt for her.


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue

He watched her unfurl her tail with a contented sigh as she lay back against the tub, her scales sparkling in the bright light. Steam rose from the surface of the water and a light sheen of sweat dappled Aydra's smooth beautiful skin.

"How are you feeling?" Gabriel asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. You will have to stop hovering."

"I can't help it," he told her and placed his hand onto her rounded stomach. The baby was moving and he felt a light kick against his hand and he smiled.

"She's very active today," she told him.

Gabriel smirked, "Are you sure it's a she, what if it is a he?"

"I will love it no matter what. Do you think it will be like me, or like you?"

"I don't know. Or care. As long as it is healthy," he told her.

Gabriel gazed down at Aydra, love was etched onto each plane of his face. He was silently worrying about the birth. He had no one to help him deliver his child.

Aydra touched his cheek. "It will all be fine Gabriel, you will see."

"I went to a mall today," she continued. "I never knew how many things one could buy there."

Gabriel groaned. He hoped she wasn't maxing out the cards again. He'd really have to talk to her about her spending habits.

"Honey…,"

"Don't worry. I only bought--," she thought, "Ten pairs of shoes, three dresses and eighteen outfits for the baby."

"Aydra…,"

"Oh, but I had to. You want our child to be well-clothed don't you?"

He shook his head, smiled and laid a kiss against her forehead.

"Okay. But slow it down. We don't want people getting suspicious."

She smiled in kind and began humming. Her sweet voice filled the air and sounded like silk against Gabriel's ears.

He left and went into the kitchen. He pulled out a cold beer, traipsed into the living room and decided to watch television.

He flipped until he came to a news station. Nathan Petrelli's face was splashed across the screen.

"We must do all we can to apprehend these dangerous fugitives. They are a threat to our way of life. People with abilities must be stopped. We are apprehending them as we speak. The American public should be protected…..,"

A growing sense of horror rose in Gabriel. The horror was soon replaced by a more familiar emotion: anger. He didn't realize how tightly he was holding his beer until glass shards exploded all over the rug along with cold, foamy liquid.

He looked back in the direction of the bathroom, still hearing Aydra's sweet voice dancing on the air currents. If they came for him, then they'd come for her…and his child. No, this wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all.

"Gabriel," she called out, "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine honey, I just made a little mess," he told her.

No. He would make sure everything was fine. He felt that part of him that he had thought long dormant begin to awaken. He would protect his family at any and all costs. And he knew what that meant. He was going to have to kill Nathan Petrelli.


End file.
